Valence
by Pretty When You're Faithful
Summary: Brian POV fic, takes place very early in season one. Brian's reasoning behind rejecting Justin. r/r please :)


{a/n- Ok, I don't own Brian, Justin, or QAF. mwahahaha. Oh just r/r. This fic takes place very early in the first season. They are so cute together, but I had to write this. Brian wants Justin, but feels that Justin is better off without him. He believes he isn't good enough for Justin. }  
  
I can't really remember too much from my school years. I suppose I've blocked out my memories. I don't know, nor do I care. It doesn't really matter now anyway. I remember random tidbits that won't ever be of any use to me. I used to love chemistry.  
  
If I were a straight old man, I'd probably be sitting here, wearing my Rolex, watching my wife socialize, our grandkids swimming in the country club pool. I'd be thinking of that hot little secretary I was cheating with and how to cheat on my taxes. Oh, and golf of course. I suppose that's the "normal" life, but I've never been normal. Trust me, I know. My father'd remind me of that every chance he got- drinking, fucking, beating. I got it all. Yes, lucky me. "My son will never be a faggot. Being gay is a SIN!" Rape rape. Fuck fuck. How ironic. So, do you see why I don't like to reminisce? But I'm not bitter. Most of the time.  
  
Back to the non-existent point. I was a weird kid. I loved chemistry, maybe not for the right reasons. I lost my virginity (well not technically, but you know, consensually) when I was 15. Wait… 15? Something around there. Tenth grade. Mr. Nowell. No, that wasn't it. I lost my virginity to a girl. Wait- no. I don't even remember. How sad. Anyway, the reason I loved chemistry was because of him. We weren't in love, we were in a relationship, but once you're past a certain point, age doesn't even matter anymore. He was young though. Twenty-three.  
  
I remember the first time we met. It was actually out of school in a club. Yeah, I loved going out even then. It was sweaty, musky there, glitter and smoke, and I loved it so much. I loved the mysteriousness of it all; that really got me off.  
  
The dancing was heaven, and I lived for it. Grinding to the beat, it was like we were meant for each other. I fit perfectly into his arms, and he held me. It was the first time I'd ever thought that I was ok, been happy with myself.  
  
He moved to New York a little while later. I begged him to take me with him, to save me from my family, but it didn't work obviously, and I'm still here.  
  
He refused, affirming my previous belief that no one wanted me. He'd been cheating on me.  
  
I've never been in love; I don't believe in it. So, we weren't actually in love, but we had something damn close to it. It doesn't matter; he made me what I am today. You know the feeling you get when you look at a person, and you just know that they're attractive. The kind of attractive where everyone wants to get with em, regardless of sexual orientation. Whatever. They're just that sexy. Not necessarily in an androgynous way, but sexy. Gorgeous. Muscular, but not too bulky. Just right, tan, and smart too. And he had a NICE ass.  
  
An air of confidence, he was perfection, personified. Walk into a room, and he had everyone's attention, before he even said a word. And do you know what? He chose me. Brian Kinney. Taught me everything I know today. I owe it all to him. The cocky (if you'll pardon the pun) swagger, it's all his.  
  
I was his Justin.  
  
We used to play strip poker to help me study for tests. And the love was so passionate. I wish I was a poet so I could articulate it better. Don't even get me started. It was so… cadenced, orgasmic, sweet yet salty, warm, just so beautiful. Floating on air afterwards. Mmmm… I always got As in that class.  
  
When he left, I wasn't heartbroken. I didn't cry, I didn't ache. We weren't in love so how could I have been?  
  
I may not have been as naïve as Justin was that first night; I never had that cherubic, unassuming pout. He doesn't try to be sexy and I don't know if he knows how sexy that is. He's so pure, in every way. Even his skin. I mean, it's so unmarred. When I was his age, I had tons of scars, mostly from my father. So angelic. Beautiful in that you just want to be the one to take him. Hold him in your arms, at least YOU know it's not pedophilia. I don't consider it statutory rape. And it's NOT immoral! Who is the law to decide who I love?! Holy shit. I just said it. I love him. I love Justin.  
  
Why deny the truth? It'll only make me ache for him more. It's like a drug really, this love. My addiction. I swear it's not bad for me, but then again, don't all addicts say that? Hello, my name is Brian, and I'm a Justinholic. Maybe I have issues, but you understand. He's that cute. Innocent, helpless, whatever. The point is- he's mine.  
  
I remember learning about the structure of an atom; He'd draw one on himself with whipped cream, and I could lick off the parts I labeled correctly. You get the picture. I learned science VERY well that year.  
  
Valence electrons are the ones where the outer shell is completely filled up. They're the most stable elements, if I remember correctly. Justin is my valence electron. He fills me up in a way. I'm not just saying this, and I don't just mean physically. There's something there. I mean it. It's kinda like he protects me too in a way, I mean just being there- he stops me from exploding. I'm the impulsive, rash one. The nitroglycerine. He helps control me, even though to outsiders I'm sure it appears very much the opposite. I need to stop sometimes. Just slow down and think. Justin's the constant in my life. My independent variable. And, like I said I need him.  
  
I always prided myself on being very independent, but lately I've been feeling extremely co-dependent. But that's the worst part. I need him so much that he's almost repelled by me. Or vice versa. Maybe we're just so opposite that we can't attract. I'm not nice enough, pure enough, and there's really no way we can realistically ever be together. I can't be his knight in shining armor, and as much as I wish I could, I can't shelter him. I need to, but I can't. It's not his fault he's beautiful; it's not my fault I'm an asshole.  
  
Can someone that young feel love, anyway? But I guess that's it actually. This isn't love. I just don't know what it is, but it's wrong of me to fool myself. Even if I've only fucking felt this way toward one other person…this can't be love. Stop thinking that he loves you. You're wrong for him. You'll just fuck him up. Just face the facts, I'm not good enough for him. He is like this little saint, and I'm the whore of Pittsburgh. Justin is too young to know what he wants. Maybe I'm incapable of love, and maybe people are incapable of loving me…  
  
Best let him go, for his own good. It'll be better this way. Feign loathing, simulate ignorance and maybe this fucking ache inside will go away. There's an ache and I haven't even dumped the kid yet. God, I'm pathetic.  
  
Yeah, all wistful, peaches and cream. Stop sounding so sorry for yourself and get over the boy.  
  
Don't cry. Don't cry. Never cry. Don't cry. Deep breath. Don't cry. You CAN'T. I can't help it... 


End file.
